Esto Perpetua
by SilverDarkHorse
Summary: The summer after his fifth year, Sirius runs away from home, seeking refuge with the Potters. When worlds collide and Sirius has to make the choice between what is right and what is easy, will it be the breaking of the boy or the making of the man? Written for The Parental Figure Challenge by Savita on HPFC.
1. The Last Vestiges Of Peace

Esto Perpetua

_This is in response to __**The Parental Figure Challenge **__by __**Savita**__ on HPFC. It features __**Charlus Potter**__ in a paternal capacity to __**Sirius Black. **This is a novelette of sorts with a few chapters. I hope you enjoy reading this, and remember reviews are always welcome. Rated T for sensitive themes and violence. No sex apart from a bit of snogging._

_**Esto Perpetua **__is loosely translated as "Be the constant" or "Be thou forever"._

_**Disclaimer:**__ Harry Potter mage nemei ane. Pauw mata! Quotes are taken from Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew and All's Well That Ends Well. Quote for summary is taken from J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.  
_

_**Prompts used in this chapter: **__An examination, a friendly duel, dusk and flirt._

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Chapter 1 – The Last Vestiges of Peace

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_Explain, using examples, the difference between the Animagus transformation and Trans-Species transformation. _Sirius Black grinned. He then proceeded to answer the final question in the Transfiguration O.W.L paper in his customary elegant hand. His brow furrowed as he penned the last sentence and turned the parchment over, quickly running through the answers already completed. The corners of his mouth turned up as he finished and flung the quill down with a flourish. This paper had been as easy as the ten exams that had preceded it.

Noting that there were seven minutes until the end of the exam, Sirius glanced around the hall.

James and Remus had both finished as well; James was running a hand through his hair and grinning at Evans' profile – she seemed to feel his gaze and also know who it was, because she shifted uncomfortably and then put on her patented Evans scowl she reserved only for him, and Remus was arranging his quills on the desk, in ascending order of size and feather length, Sirius noted amusedly. Peter was alternating between staring at his own paper in desperation and craning his neck to look into Ravindra Patil's paper.

Sirius fidgeted, bored, and tried to catch Marlene McKinnon's eye across the aisle. No such luck. Instead, he devoted his energies to admiring her long dark brown French braid.

The bell rang at last.

"The examination is now over. Quills down, please, and remain seated until I collect all your papers."

Professor McGonagall's stern tones had never been more welcome. Sirius leapt out of his seat as soon as she had collected all their rolls of parchment, and ran down the aisle to greet James and Remus.

"Thank Merlin that's an end to the damned OWLs. ! Well, that was as easy as the Defence paper, if not easier. What do you think, Prongs? It is your subject, after all."

"Easy as they come, mate. Had to finish off with an Animagus question too, didn't they? And it's just as much your subject as it is mine, Padfoot. You were the first to master the transformation, you know." James lowered his voice at the last bit.

He eyed Evans' retreating back thoughtfully, and then grinned. "Do you think she'd give me a cuddle if I turned into Prongs? Girls love animals, and I'm irresistible after all."

"I wouldn't bet on it," Remus told him with a snort. "The antlers are likely to put her off. Padfoot might have a chance, though. I know that Lily likes dogs."

"That's true Prongs. Your antlered visage can't hold a candle to my liquid puppy-eyes!"

They all laughed, and James tossed Sirius a two-fingered salute. Sirius snickered good-naturedly and slung an arm around James, leading them to their usual spot by the lake. Peter caught up to them at last, panting and still tucking the last of his stationery into his bag.

Sirius lay flat on his back and put his arms behind his head, thankful for the cool breeze that swept around them, rustling the leaves on the trees and making ripples on the smooth blue surface of the lake. He soaked in the feeling of freedom and exhilaration that the end of exams usually heralded, and closed his eyes against the warm June sunshine.

Lily and the girls were feeding the Giant Squid again; Sirius could tell by the muffled grunts of pleasure the Squid was emitting as he swallowed the morsels of toast they were giving him, and also by James' rapid breathing – something he always did when Lily was nearby.

His thoughts turned to the incident that had happened the previous day after their Defence paper. Remus had managed to heal the gash Snape had left on James' face, but a small scar was still visible on his cheek. Lily had yet to acknowledge any of the Marauders after her tirade aimed at James.

"Do you think she'll ever speak to me again?" James sounded uncharacteristically forlorn; Sirius knew they were thinking of the same thing.

"She'll come around eventually, Prongs. She'll speak to you before the term ends. There are just three days left, and I doubt she will want to part ways on bad terms with anyone." Remus' tones were soothing, and they all knew that what he said was true.

Sirius swallowed thickly at the reminder that there was so little time left before the school year ended. He would soon be on the train back to London, to his pureblood-supremacist parents, repulsive tattletale house elf and the vast, gloomy shell of a house which disseminated dark magic and evil from its very pores. The very thought was enough to make him feel nauseous.

It did not help that he had at last chosen a career to pursue after his NEWTs; he wanted to become an Auror. This choice would not appeal to his parents, he knew; they were insistent that he enter the Wizengamot like his father before him.

He shook his head, clearing it of unsavoury thoughts, and turned to find James watching him with concern. It was likely that James knew what he was thinking about – brothers could often read minds of course – so he said nothing, just shrugged and gave James a small smile. There was time enough to deal with it later.

"Snape and Mulciber are watching you, Prongs," Remus said softly. His brown eyes were wary and the muscles in his neck were taut. They all turned, watching Snape and Mulciber glower at James from a safe distance and mutter behind their hands.

Snape shot a particularly venomous glare at Peter, who squeaked.

"They won't try anything here," James said. "Not after we got them so well yesterday."

Sirius had to agree. Neither Snape nor his Slytherin cronies had enough pluck to start a fight with the Marauders to their face when they were outnumbered. It was more characteristic of them to wait until they could get each boy alone, and then attack him behind his back.

Remus drew in a sharp breath, his eyes never moving from Snape's malevolent expression. Sirius knew Remus was listening to their conversation – lycanthropy had given him excellent hearing. The other Marauders had the good hearing that developed with Animagus abilities, but it was not as keen as Remus'.

"They're trying to get you tonight, Prongs. They know you'll be at the library after dinner." Remus murmured, barely moving his mouth.

"Damn. I really need to get that research done before I leave for the holidays."

"Research? For what? It's the end of term!" Peter sounded confused.

"I need to read up on Auror training; I told you I was looking into that, Peter! And speaking of Aurors, you better come too, Pads –"

"Of course I will, but none of us are going anywhere tonight. We don't need any more trouble after yesterday."

"I can handle old Snivellus if he decides –"

"Stop it, James." When Remus spoke in that mild yet curiously inflexible tone, James fell silent at once.

"Paddy is right, you are going nowhere tonight. Your reading can wait until Snape is otherwise occupied. If you get injured again, Madam Pomfrey will ask questions. And when she does, she won't stop until she gets the truth – you know that well enough."

James looked disgruntled, but muttered his acquiescence and returned to admiring Lily.

Sirius closed his eyes once more and found his thoughts wandering back to his parents.

_**-o.O.o-**_

The four boys stayed out until dusk, chattering idly at first, then sinking into silence one by one, watching the last rays of gold and pink fade from the sky and the sun, now a blazing ball of fire, dip ever lower until it disappeared over the edge of the lake and the mountains.

The Giant Squid had long since retired for the night, occasionally letting out a pleasurable burp as he sank below the surface of the water.

The girls – Lily, Marlene, Alice and Mary among them – had gone in too. Sirius had tried to cop a feel as Marlene's figure went by him, and had been rewarded for his pains with a stinging hex to the hand. He gave an exaggerated scowl as Marlene smirked and the boys laughed.

It was dinner time when the boys rose to go inside – keeping their wands out and a close eye on their surroundings – although Snape and his henchman had departed by this time.

Dinner was a merry meal. Sirius tucked into his broccoli and roast potatoes with abandon, hungry after a day of exams and worrying. Opposite him, James and Remus bantered between mouthfuls of stew.

"Come on, Moony. Gobstones - just this once!"

"No, James! I have my book to finish."

"But exams are just over. You can't want to study again already!" Peter chimed in through a mouthful of peas.

"Not a school book, Pete," Remus explained patiently. "It's a novel Mary lent me. I'd like to finish it and return it to her before the holidays are over."

"So Mary lent it to you, did she, Rem?" James said, and raised his eyebrow suggestively. Sirius looked up from his plate and grinned as a blush spread across Remus' cheeks.

"What's the book then? Another play – Much Ado about Nothing? The Merchant of Venice? It's by this Shakeseer fellow, isn't it?"

"Shakes_peare, _Padfoot. And it's The Taming of the Shrew this time."

"Ah, I know the one!" Sirius grinned and flung out an arm exuberantly. "Away, you three – inch fool! I am no bea- Merlin, sorry, Pete!" Sirius' arm had caught Peter with a mouth full of pumpkin juice. He spluttered and glared at the stain spreading down his shirt, scrubbing at it with the handful of tissues Sirius placed before him. Several fourth years in the vicinity sniggered rather unpleasantly, and Peter flushed.

Sirius suddenly felt bad for his friend. The chubby boy was often laughed at by his schoolfellows for his weight and general awkwardness, but this time he was humiliated through no fault of his own. Sirius rose hastily, stuffing the last potato into his mouth, and set off towards the common room, the other three following in his wake.

"I'm bored. Wish we could fly. Or take a trip to the kitchens. I could do with a custard cream or three."

"You just had dinner, Padfoot."

"There's always room for custard creams, Peter. What about chess, then? Since Moony seems averse to Gobstones?"

Remus looked up from his worn trunk, in which he was arranging the last of his clean socks. A well-thumbed copy of The Taming of the Shrew lay on his bed, ready to be returned to Mary the next morning. "I'm just not in the mood to have bilge water squirted into my face, thanks," he said dryly. "But we could always duel, if you like."

"Brilliant idea, Moony! You always come up with the best plans." Sirius beamed and leapt off his bed, snatching up his wand from the bedside table and moved into the middle of the room.

Peter squeaked and scrambled aside as jets of lights and sparks flew from both wands. They had friendly duels ever since first year; it was excellent practice for their Defence, Charms and Transfiguration classes. Peter was hopeless at duelling; usually one of the others would help him, but Sirius and Remus were both too focused on the battle to think of him now.

The door to the bathroom opened, and James stepped out in pyjamas, just as Remus got Sirius with a well–placed _Tarantallegra. _"Oh are you duelling, then? Excellent!" James exclaimed happily and sat down beside Peter on his bed to watch.

Sirius hobbled around the room, trying to gain control of his legs, which insisted on dancing with wild abandon. He managed to wordlessly counter the hex, and turned to Remus with a glint in his eye.

"Uh oh" said Remus, his face paling as he noted Sirius' wicked grin.

"_Sternustatio!-"_

"_Prurius maximus-_

"_Commutatio cerulio!"_

"_Follicosis!"_

The hexes flew back and forth faster than the eye could see. Remus cast a sneezing hex that had Sirius bent double at the waist, gasping for breath.

"_R-r-rictusempra"_ he gasped at last, pointing his wand at Remus. Taken unawares, the sandy haired boy sank to the ground, weak with laughter.

The other three boys stared at their friend for a moment before breaking out in laughter as well.

It took several minutes before Remus could calm down enough to counter the tickling hex himself, after which he gathered up his nightclothes and vanished into the bathroom, signalling the end of the duel.

Sirius quickly changed into his own pyjamas, rubbing salve into the bruises on his elbows and knees left by the duel. He then cast himself on his bed, exhausted, and unaware of the blue hair his friend had gifted him with. He drew the curtains on his four-poster bed, rolled over, and promptly fell asleep.

_**-o.O.o-**_

"En can we 'ome round to yours, 'Rongs?" asked Peter through a mouthful of pumpkin pasties, spraying crumbs lightly on the floor of the carriage. Sirius looked up from his chocolate frog and sniggered, despite it not being really funny.

"Any day after the third, mate. Mum and Dad have to go Uncle Cyrus' tomorrow, and won't be back till the third. Don't see why they won't let me have you over while they're away." James grumbled good-naturedly, neatly vanishing the pastry crumbs on the floor with a flick of his wand.

Remus looked away from the window at this. He had been quiet for most of the journey, watching the countryside flash past as the Hogwarts Express made its way to London. "Maybe one of you is all they can handle at a time. Four Marauders when they are away would spell disaster for the house."

James scowled playfully at Remus while Sirius laughed. Sirius had to admit that Remus was not incorrect. The previous summer, Mr. and Mrs. Potter had been away for the day when the Marauders arrived unannounced. When they returned, it was to find an entire crate of Filibuster's wet-start fireworks whizzing around the courtyard, and the summerhouse in ruins, while their two small house elves stood by, wringing their hands in despair. The Potters had not been pleased, and neither James nor Sirius cared to think about the consequences of that little escapade.

Remus left soon after to talk to Mary, and returned rather red-faced with another book in his arms, and a pile of Quidditch magazines.

"Here" he said, dropping them gracelessly into Sirius' lap. "Courtesy of Marlene." A sly smile tugged at his lips. Sirius stuck his tongue out, and proceeded to bury himself in the exploits of Donal Murphy, leading Chaser of the Kenmare Kestrels.

He was still reading when a diversion appeared at the door in the form of a sneering Severus Snape and his henchmen.

"What do you want, Snape?" he barked.

"Nothing to do with _you_, filthy blood-traitor," Snape sneered. He had his wand out. Sirius noticed that Remus and James both had their wands clutched in their hands as well, and that Peter was trembling too much to pull his own out of his back pocket.

"Potter – You think you're so wonderful, don't you, strutting around the place, hexing students at every turn. I'm warning you, leave Lily alone –"

"I could say the same thing to you, _Snivellus," _James countered coolly. " Not that she'll want to have anything more to do with you now that you – ah – _inadvertently_ called her that filthy word; not a hope of getting in her –"

Snape turned pale at James' words, but it was not he who cast the hex. Sirius felt a sudden stinging in his left wrist, and glared at a grinning Mulciber, drawing his own wand. Before Snape could curse James and before Sirius could retaliate, Remus stood up and calmly stepped in front of Snape.

"Enough" Remus said calmly. He pointed to the Prefect's badge on his chest. "_Get out_, now." He watched the Slytherins mutter darkly before departing.

"Oh and Snape," he said sweetly, dangerously, "James is right – your virginity breeds mites, much like a cheese." He slammed the door in the face of the stunned Slytherins.

"Sorry mates," Remus murmured, looking at his dumbstruck friends. "Shakespeare. I couldn't resist." Sirius had never before appreciated quite how sarcastic and humorous Remus could be.

Sirius' spirits dropped sharply as the day wore on and their journey drew to a close. When the train at last drew into the station, his heart resided in his shoes. James, ever perceptive, whispered "You can always come round to my place anytime, Padfoot, if things get too bad at yours."

Remus too, smiled sympathetically and squeezed his hand before turning to help Peter with his trunk.

The lump in Sirius' throat diminished momentarily when he stepped onto the platform and saw Mr. and Mrs. Potter beaming and waving at both James and him. He found it was not too difficult to summon up an answering smile as he followed James to where they were standing. He was immediately enveloped in a hug from Dorea Potter, while Charlus did the same to James.

"Hello dear." Dorea smiled, her motherly face alight with love. She ran a hand down his cheek and smoothed back his shaggy black locks. "Did you have a good term?" Sirius' eyes prickled unexpectedly at the small gesture of affection.

"It was all right. OWLs were easy enough, Mrs. Potter – Aunt Dorea –" he corrected himself with a small smile at her playful frown. "Quidditch was good this year. We won the championship thanks to James' thirty-eight goal streak!"

Charlus Potter, a tall man with a greying thatch of unruly hair and keen hazel eyes – two of the many attributes his son had inherited – chuckled at this last remark. "I heard a whisper about that, I believe. One letter, I believe, Jamie? One letter a day, detailing all the play-by-plays." They all laughed as James turned red and bumped his father's shoulder.

"And I'm sure you played your part in the victory as well. You are an excellent beater, Sirius. And how is the injury now?" Charlus' expression softened to one of concern as he gently took Sirius' arm and turned it to examine the faded blue spot, which was all that remained of a nasty encounter with a bludger.

"It's much better now," Sirius replied gratefully. "Hardly hurts at all. Madam Pomfrey fixed it in time for the finals, thank Merlin." He had fallen off his broom and had been knocked out when the bludger smashed into his forearm. When he awoke hours later in the Hospital Wing, it was to find the anxious faces of Mr. and Mrs. Potter staring down at him.

There had been no sign of his own parents, not even a letter to inquire after his recovery.

"Well, Sirius, we must be getting home now. We will be expecting you soon, however." Charlus reached up and gripped Sirius' shoulder, keen hazel eyes boring into Sirius' grey ones. "You are welcome at Potter Manor anytime, Sirius; whether Aunt Dorea and I are at home or not. I trust you will remember that."

With a nod and forced smile, Sirius raised his hand in farewell and watched their retreating backs. Then he turned to look for his brother, and upon spotting him, turned to make his way towards Kreacher – their sour-faced house elf who stood in a corner of the platform – dragging his heavy trunk behind him.

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_I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Next up: A glimpse into Sirius' home life. Reviews and criticism are always welcome._


	2. My Side Of The Fence

Esto Perpetua

_Thank you for all your kind reviews, favourites and follows. A special thanks to Hashan and Senal for the encouragement! Sorry about the long delay; I had part of it done, but got caught up in the semester-end rush. Was able to finish this chapter off during the holidays, though. Hope you enjoy it!_

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Chapter 2 – My Side Of The Fence

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The whirling green flames spat Sirius out onto the gloomy and antiquated living room hearth of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. He lay prone on the cold wooden floor for a moment, breathing in the pungent smell of mokeswax polish and expired mothballs. The grey stone walls were closing in on him, he thought, and he shut his eyes, nerves tingling, anticipating the sickening crunch of stone on flesh.

Nothing happened.

The sound of whooshing flames brought him to his senses, and he scrambled to his feet and moved aside hastily, just as the Floo flared and deposited Regulus and Kreacher with a mighty thump at his feet. He wasn't fast enough to avoid the three trunks that followed them though, and one banged into the backs of his knees, toppling him over with a grunt onto his mother, who was watching the proceedings impassively.

"Mother," Sirius said, once he had got to his feet, shaken soot out of his shaggy black hair, and removed tiny splinters of wood from his knees.

"Sirius," Mother replied stiffly. "Have you not yet learned to enter a room with the grace that befits your birth?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Nice to see you too, Mum," he said, and caught her enthusiastically around the shoulders in an overt embrace. Mostly, he did it just to annoy her – the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black did not do such terribly Plebeian things as hugging, after all – but a small part of him always hoped that she would hug him back.

She didn't reciprocate the hug, but she didn't step away immediately, either. She just stared with faint distaste at the tiny droplets of blood that were making their way down Sirius' legs, from the splinter-punctures on his knees.

"Regulus," Mother said at last, stepping away from Sirius, and turning to his younger brother, who had been watching them with an odd, closed expression on his face.

"Mother," Regulus answered softly, inclining his head.

"You have done well this term, Regulus," Mother said. "Your marks were excellent" – Sirius snorted to himself; Reg was certainly a bright student, but Sirius' own marks were just as good, if not better – "And you have behaved in a manner that brings honour to our family. Your father and I are proud of you." She ghosted a hand over Reg's hair as she spoke, a mere flicker of movement, and Reg angled ever so slightly into her touch. Sirius felt something – he didn't know what – shoot across his chest as he watched his little brother's eyes light up behind their thin glasses, and his expression open out for a second.

"Sirius," Mother continued, shooting a glare at him over the top of Reg's head, "We have had yet more owls from your Head-of-House informing us of _yet more _detentions you have incurred for hexing Slytherins _yet again_. Will this ever stop, Sirius? Why can't you behave more like Regulus, with honour and pride?"

"Of course not, Mother," Sirius said, sounding genuinely hurt. "_I'm_ the older brother; Reggie should be following _my_ example! What do you say, Reggie? We win all the Quidditch matches all the time – Slytherin hadn't a chance against us this year" – Sirius grinned inwardly as he saw Reg pout slightly – "So naturally we have the best parties too – and we're mates with all the house elves, so we can nick the best food from the kitchens." He looked at his brother, whose eyes met his; the corners of Reg's mouth twitched upwards, and he appeared to be struggling to control his smile. Sirius gave his own grin at this.

"Enough!" spat Mother, sounding angry instead of bored for the first time that day. "Hexing Slytherins! Slytherins, Sirius! What is the meaning of this? These are the future allies of our family. How can we hope to maintain our standing amongst them if you insist on behaving like some common Mudblood? And what about all those Mudbloods and filth you consort with in Gryffindor? They are not worthy to wipe the dust from our shoes, and yet you call them friends!"

"They _are_ my friends, Mother," Sirius answered coolly. "Yes, I have real friends – people who actually care about me, and whom I care about – a great deal. I'm aware the notion must be quite alien to you; after all, our family only has _allies_ and _consorts_ and _minions_, don't we, Mother?"

He grinned as he saw an ugly red flush creeping up her neck and face, and noted with some amusement that she was trembling slightly. Her feet twitched as well, and for a fleeting second, Sirius thought she might actually begin to dance with rage – something he would have dearly loved to see, but then she put her feet down, and stood quite firmly on the rug.

She opened her mouth – obviously to berate him – but appeared unable to from coherent sentences, because she simply spluttered, opening and closing her mouth, eyes popping, looking remarkably like a dying goldfish. Sirius snickered quietly, but sobered when he caught the warning glint in Reg's eyes.

"Enough!" Mother cried again, finally regaining control of her speech.

"Shame of my flesh! This is not the way we have taught you to speak. Watch your mouth, you disrespectful whelp! Make no mistake, your father will be hearing about this behaviour. Go to your room, and don't take a step outside until dinner!"

Still breathing heavily, she turned her attention to Reg. "And you may go and rest, Regulus. Change for dinner, because your father wishes to speak to you both during the meal. Kreacher, take the trunks upstairs and light the fires in the bedrooms. We will dine at seven."

She shot a last malevolent glare at Sirius, turned, and with an elegant swish of her long black skirts, swept out of the room.

Kreacher meanwhile, bowed lowly at her retreating back, then levitated the three trunks with a snap of his fingers – dropping one on Sirius' foot in the process – and shuffled out of the living room after Mother, mumbling about living to serve the House of Black, and flinching when Sirius' well-aimed retaliatory kick caught him in the side.

Behind him, Sirius and Reg exchanged a look, and dove for the staircase.

_**-o.O.o-**_

"Are you really going to wear that?" Reg asked, raising a single eyebrow – a trick he faithfully practised every night in front of the mirror, Sirius knew, and one which always reminded him of Remus, though his ability to lift his eyebrow was natural – and staring at the bright red long-sleeved shirt Sirius had donned in preparation for dinner.

"Why Reggie? What's wrong with it?"

"Gives me the impression that you're trying too hard – too Gryffindor. Looks forced."

"I am a Gryffindor," Sirius said. He made a face at Reg in the mirror, but he knew his brother was right, so he sighed and removed the offending garment, and pulled on a boring, plain black shirt instead.

"Anyway," Reg continued, sitting on the bed and scuffing the toes of his shoes along the rich brocade carpet, "Father will be angry enough about the detentions, you don't need to add any more fuel to the fire with poor wardrobe choices."

"Ah, but you see, my sweet little brother, I live to annoy our _dear_ parents."

"But _why_, Sirius?" Reg burst out suddenly, uncharacteristically. "Why do you always insist on starting a row the very minute we get home? Don't you know how hard it is on all of us? Why can't you just try to get along for once?"

"_Get along?_ Reggie, did you hear what she called my friends? She called them filth – Remus and Peter and James – _James_ – how can you expect me not to stand up for them" – they were the main reason that Sirius was still breathing, still had a reason to live, to try to make something of his life, something worthwhile, but he wasn't about to tell Reg that; after all, he loved Reg fiercely too – "and just keep quiet and _get along_?"

Reg's face had fallen as Sirius grew more agitated; he was staring at the carpet now, and his face was flushed. Sirius was striding about his bedroom as he spoke, but when he turned and saw Reg, his anger abated. He stopped his tirade and crouched down in front of Reg; put his hands on the younger boy's shoulders.

"Reggie," Sirius said very quietly, staring deep into his brother's slate eyes, so like his own, yet so conspicuously lacking the spark of brightness that was ever-present in Sirius', "Do you have any friends?"

"I'm perfectly happy –"

"No," Sirius cut him off, "I mean people who you can talk to about anything, who will have your back in any situation, whom you can trust with your life?"

Reg was silent.

Sirius moved his hand down to rest on top of Reg's. "That's what a friend does, Reg. They care about you, they give, and they don't expect anything in return. An ally, or those our family are supposed to make ties with anyway, will always expect a favour in return. And they won't hesitate to turn their backs on you if you can't make that return. A friend – a friend never will; they'll stick by you. Always. Even" – Sirius swallowed the sudden lump in his throat, thinking of Snape, and the Whomping Willow, and Remus' face the morning after, tear-streaked and wide-eyed in disbelief – "Even when you make mistakes."

"Severus is kind to me, though," Reg said quietly. Sirius bit down his retort; he had a profound dislike for that snivelling nosy parker, but he didn't want to say anything to dampen Reg's spirit.

"That's good, then, I suppose," he said instead. "But you've got to watch your step, Reg, even with Sniv- Snape. Kindness isn't a definite assurance of friendship."

Reg silently nodded by way of answer, but Sirius could see that he was going over the conversation in his mind. Reg wasn't much of a talker, but he was certainly a thinker.

"And as I asked," said Reg, sticking with unusual tenacity to his original point, "Can you please try not to provoke arguments on purpose? I'd really like to have a bit of peace and quiet, at least at the start of the holidays."

"Can't promise, but I'll try my best," Sirius answered. His parents always rubbed him the wrong way, and put his back up with the very first words they said to him every time they saw him, but he was willing to try for Reg's sake. And Reg was heading into his O.W.L year in September, so Sirius figured he deserved the chance to have a quiet place to study, for a change.

Sirius shook out the creases on his trousers, smoothed the collar of his shirt, which had got crumpled in the heat of his rant; the mirror over his dressing table sniggered, and made a rude remark, and Sirius made at a face at it – glanced at his watch, and yelped.

"Dinner time already! We'll be late! Well, don't sit there like a gargoyle! Come on, up you get." Sirius took Reg's arm, and unceremoniously yanked him to his feet.

"Coming...coming," Reg muttered, frowning, and rubbing absently at his abused arm. He removed his smudged spectacles and wiped them on a corner of his shirt.

"I hate these Merlinforsaken things," he groused, following Sirius out of the room and down the stairs. "I still feel like I'm going to fall flat on my face every time I tackle a staircase while wearing them."

"I'd pay to see that," Sirius grinned. "Regulus Black, paragon of public posture and deportment, tumbling down the stairs like a puppy?"

Still, he extended an arm to steady his brother and help him down the rest of the way. "You've only been wearing them for a few days yet, you'll get used to it soon enough. James has been wearing his glasses for years, and he says he still has trouble navigating his way around every time he gets a new pair."

Orion and Walburga were waiting for them when at last they walked into the dining room. Mother's nostrils were flared, and her eyes were still shooting sparks, but Father merely looked impassive as always, and he idly fiddled with the cuffs of his elegant green robes. He raised an eyebrow and glanced pointedly at the clock when he saw them, but he didn't say anything; just signalled to Kreacher to bring in the first course, and drew out the chair for Mother to sit.

"It has come to my attention, Sirius," Father said, delicately hooking a potato onto his fork, "That you have not ceased to clash with your fellow students. Those whom we find in our social circles, I might add. And your mother informs me that you have been rude to her today – though that is nothing extraordinary, you are rude and uncouth every day of your life."

"I hexed Slytherins, Father. Not my fellow students." Sirius ignored the latter half of his father's remark; he was too used to that sort of jibe for it to have an effect on him.

"The difference, being?"

"They curse the other houses; they injure the First-years. Cause bodily harm, Father, and grievous bodily harm at that! Regulus told you about what Mulciber did to Mary MacDonald, didn't he?"

"That should be none of your concern! She's a filthy little Mudbl-"

Father held up a hand to silence Mother.

"Their private...amusements...are not our business, Sirius. The fate of a few Mudbloods and Halfbloods will not matter in the long run. These people you so revile are those you will associate with, once you leave Hogwarts. You will therefore treat them with courtesy. Have I made myself clear to you?"

Sirius looked into Father's grey eyes. "Yes," he answered, suppressing a shiver at the unnerving, steely glint he saw in them.

He had been hungry, having had nothing to eat since the Pumpkin Pasties he ate on the train, but now his appetite was completely lost.

He poked glumly at the chicken on his plate before giving it up as a bad job. He watched Reg as he shovelled the last of his vegetables into his mouth, and then turned his attention back to Father, who had cleared his own plate, and was ordering Kreacher to bring in dessert.

"Now, boys," said Father, once they were all supplied with dessert, "Narcissa's wedding is next Thursday."

Sirius choked on his rhubarb crumble. "She's actually going through with it?"

"Of course." A muscle twitched at the corner of Father's mouth. "Lucius is an educated and...resourceful...young man" – Sirius scoffed inwardly, he knew Father didn't like Lucius' slippery ways of getting out of his responsibilities, for all that he talked about resourcefulness – "We will be attending as guests of honour."

He turned those chilly eyes upon Sirius. "Bellatrix will be attending with Rodolphus. She has a matter of importance to discuss with you."

"About what?"

"The new movement to elevate Pureblood families to their rightful status."

"The Pureblood families rule the roost already. The best positions in society, the best jobs at the ministry, all the international appointments, more than half of the Wizengamot. What more is there to do, Father?"

"The purification of wizarding blood is necessary in these times, Sirius. Luckily for us, there is someone who has taken the initiative in this matter."

"You mean Lord Voldemort. His campaign to eliminate Muggleborns. And eventually the Halfbloods too."

Father ignored this last remark, set down his fork and focused his attention fully on his eldest son.

"You will listen to what Bella has to say, and should she have any...proposition...for you, you will inform me of the details. You will act according to what the traditions of our family dictate, and I will inform you now Sirius, that you will have no leeway in this matter."

He pinned Sirius with eyes that resembled nothing so much as pools of frozen steel. "Disobey our instructions, and the consequences will be...unpleasant. Do I make myself clear?"

_Voldemort? Bellatrix? Proposition?_ Sirius's stomach roiled. He battled a wave of nausea as he stared at his father. He knew only too well the sinister connotations of the word _unpleasant._

"_Do I make myself clear?"_

"Crystal," he ground out, seeing that Father required an answer.

He looked over at Reg, whose eyes were wide and confused behind his thin lenses, and at his mother, who was frowning heavily, her lips drawn into a thin, white line.

Sirius swallowed, and then focused his gaze on the shimmering serpentine chandelier hung overhead; trying with all his might not to vomit all over the remains of his meal.

_**-o.O.o-**_

"She looks like a bloody fairy."

"I think she looks pretty."

"_He_ looks even more like a fairy. It's that whacking great tail of blond hair."

Regulus snickered as Sirius' last remark. "I agree with you on that," he said, and followed Sirius' line of sight to where Lucius Malfoy, newlywed, stood, resplendent in high-necked white silk robes and a sleek, fair mane of hair, tied back neatly with a matching velvet bow. He was talking to Cantankerous Nott and Judas Selwyn, with a hand on the arm of his new bride, who had a small, fixed smile on her face.

"Wish I could go and pull off that damned bow," Sirius muttered out of the corner of his mouth. "Or turn it turquoise. See how flustered Lucy can get."

"Not much chance of it," Reg replied thoughtfully. "Old Cranky or the Traitor would spot you, even if you did a Disillusionment charm first. And they wouldn't hesitate to hex your balls off, either." Sirius grinned; Reg's haughty Pureblood facade was flawless in public, but he could be great fun when he let his guard down in private – even in the middle of a society wedding.

"But," Reg continued, an impish grin spreading over his face, "I see old Aunt Callidora over there, no meddling old men about – _and_ she's wearing her wig."

Sirius looked across where Reg indicated, and sure enough, there was an enormous old lady in lacy, frilly purple robes, wearing an untidy and very obviously fake blond wig, tucking away into some delicacies of a dubious nature.

Sirius grinned. "Perfect."

For a moment, he was tempted to change into Padfoot and cause a general ruckus as well – he knew that several of the older ladies and gentlemen were scared of dogs – but discarded the idea almost immediately. Even if no one saw him transforming, he wasn't fast enough to dodge the hexes that would certainly be sent his way, and he was not at all keen to catch the wrong end of a Hormorphous charm, if any bright soul questioned how a dog got into a private garden party.

Winking at Regulus, he cast the Disillusionment charm on himself, wishing that he had James' invisibility cloak right now. He made his way carefully over to Aunt Callidora, avoiding small groups of people in his path, and stood directly behind her.

Aunt Callidora continued to make her way through Cornish pixie vol-au-vents and a glass of elf-made wine, blissfully unconscious of the presence behind her.

Sirius reached out and whipped the wig off her head.

For a second, nothing happened. Then –

"My hair! My hair! Somebody help! My wig's been stolen!" Aunt Callidora dropped her plate and whirled round in a panic.

She lashed out behind her, and almost caught Sirius on the shoulder. He moved back quickly, but the wig slipped from his grasp. His eyes widened, but before he could reach for his wand –

"_Wingardium Leviosa!"_

The wig floated in the air at Aunt Callidora's eye-level, slightly out of her reach.

Sirius grinned; Reg's quick spellwork had saved him. He made his way back to his brother, who was very obviously hiding his own smirk, and, removing the Disillusionment charm, carefully guided the wig to a tall Flutterby bush nearby – Aunt Callidora followed it, stumbling and making frantic, futile grabs at it – and hooked it on the topmost twig.

The Flutterby bush quivered, and tiny strands of the blond flax began to disappear into the depths of the greenery. Aunt Callidora let out a squawk and began to dither.

"Mission accomplished," Sirius murmured. Regulus chuckled.

_**-o.O.o-**_

"Hello, boys."

Sirius whirled around. Uncle Alphard was standing just behind him, looking down at them, grey eyes dancing with amusement.

"Congratulations on a well-executed prank, Sirius, Regulus. I see the Flutterbies are enjoying their little snack. Callidora will have to invest in a new wig."

"Uncle Alphard! What are you doing here?" Sirius lowered his voice, "I didn't think you liked – er – this sort of company."

Alphard's eyes twinkled. "You mean, how on earth did I end up with an invitation?"

Reg wriggled uneasily, but Sirius looked up at his uncle. "Well, that too. I'd have thought that Mother would have persuaded Uncle Cygnus to prune the guest list to her satisfaction. And anyway, more than that – this isn't your usual taste in house parties."

"Your aunt Druella has a curious sense of the proprieties. Oh I daresay you are right; Walburga would have done her level best to get little Cyggie" – Sirius chuckled, it wasn't every day that he heard his dark, brooding giant of an uncle being referred to as _little Cyggie – "_to keep me off the roll, but Druella insisted. She and my dear niece Narcissa share an overwhelming horror of being the root of any gossip our beloved family might share."

Uncle Alphard wrinkled his nose, and, adopting a falsetto, said, "Oh my dear, _did_ you hear about the Malfoy wedding? The bride's father's brother wasn't invited! And all because of the wedding present! I heard he sent the bride a set of nose-biting teacups, but they took the Malfoy boy's little boy parts off instead." Uncle Alphard lowered his voice at the end, and Sirius let out a bark of laughter.

Reg, who was fond of Narcissa, but not of Lucius, looked torn between disapproval and amusement. "Did you really send them nose-biting teacups?" he asked.

"Of course I did. Finest thirteenth century goblin-wrought silver. And a set of finger-pinching saucers to match them. Originally used as a defence mechanism. There is a forty eight hour guarantee on injuries done to the user's face and hands."

"But what about Malfoy's little boy parts?" Sirius asked, chortling.

"Ah, the guarantee for bits has long since expired, I believe." Uncle Alphard winked. "Lucius is limping today. That should give us a hint." They turned and stared for a moment at Malfoy, who was looking very uncomfortable indeed; Cantankerous was gesturing violently with his heavy walking-stick, and Malfoy was dodging it – and wincing – whenever it came too close to areas of interest.

Uncle Alphard cleared his throat and turned away from the spectacle to face Sirius. "I wonder if I might have a word with you," he said quietly. He glanced at Reg, who was staring wide-eyed up at him. "Regulus, would you give us a moment?"

Reg shot Sirius a quizzical look, but turned away, and somewhat reluctantly made his way towards a house elf laden with a platter of caviar and smoked salmon. Sirius turned, puzzled, to his uncle, who looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, then beckoned to Sirius to follow him.

Alphard lead Sirius along the pathway, away from the noisy crowds, and stopped beside a small clump of trees.

"You may have guessed by now, Sirius, that my presence here was not solely to observe the effects of a cursed teacup upon my unfortunate nephew."

Sirius nodded. He had suspected that Uncle Alphard hadn't turned up to the wedding merely for the hell of it. There was no love lost between his uncle and the rest of the family, the adults, at least. He liked Reg well enough, though he often said the boy should learn to make up his own mind, without letting others walk all over him, wasn't averse to Narcissa, was very fond of Andromeda, but she had been disowned, so was naturally absent from the party, and that left –

"You came to see me?"

"Yes," Uncle Alphard replied tersely. "I have something of importance to discuss with you, Sirius. I preferred to have a direct conversation rather than owl you – the owl may have been intercepted, am I correct?"

Sirius nodded. His mother would certainly confiscate – and burn – any letters from Uncle Alphard, and would probably kill the owl too, for good measure.

"You know what the situation is, in England," Uncle Alphard continued, "Voldemort is on the rise, he is gathering followers by the hundred, and of course, our _ancient_ and most _noble_ pureblood family is a rich source of such followers." He gave Sirius a wry smile. "I expect Bella is already enamoured, eh, Sirius?"

"If she could have her way, she'd be married to him."

"She is insane enough to do so, if she could." Alphard paused, and then laid a hand on Sirius' shoulder. "I don't know how much you truly know, Sirius, you are sheltered from all these things at Hogwarts –"

"I know he is going after Muggleborns and Halfbloods," Sirius said quickly. "Some of the kids in school have parents that have gone into hiding."

"That is not all, or even the worst of it. He wishes to eliminate all whom he deems unworthy – be they Muggles or Wizards, and his final aim is power, and power alone. He is quickly gaining followers in other countries as well, Sirius. Ireland and Scotland already have a large number of Death Eaters, and Italy, Germany and Bulgaria will follow suit."

"How – how do you know all this?"

"I've been travelling," Uncle Alphard answered quietly. "I've been all over Europe in the past three years, before going on to the tropics of South Asia – forgive me if I didn't write to you at school, Sirius, I had no permanent address and the bloody birds in the Subcontinent refuse to deliver mail unless you feed them coconut curry beforehand – anyway, I was doing some…research…of my own, and keeping an eye out about the Death Eater activities in those areas."

"And you think it's going to get worse." It wasn't a question. The look on his uncle's face spoke volumes.

"The Romanoffs, the most powerful Pureblood extended family in Bulgaria, numbering almost a hundred members, were offered positions in Voldemort's ranks. They refused. That night, they were slaughtered in their beds. Not your usual _Avada Kedavra_. Tortured beyond recognition, and their dead bodies violated. Only one boy escaped. One out of a hundred."

Sirius drew in a breath. "It could happen to us," he said. "It has _already_ started happening to us, only _our family said yes_." His eyes widened. "Father said that Bella wanted to speak to me about something…a proposition…_oh_."

Blood rushed to Sirius' head.

"I always knew they took this blood purity nonsense too far – _Toujours Pur_ and all that rubbish – but if they think I'm going to join up with their little gang, they've got another think coming!" Sirius said angrily. "Why would they want me anyway? It's not like I've ever shown any interest in their – their stupid, inhuman ways!"

"Quite a large part of the Death Eater activities are being funded by the Black family wealth. You can imagine how much this delights Bella and Rodolphus – and now Lucius, too, I suppose," Uncle Alphard said, not bothering to hide the disdain in his voice.

"That's why the Lestranges are trying so hard to recruit you. The heir of the Blacks would be the crown jewel in the little band they have already gathered for the Death Eaters. It would seal their deal as Voldemort's most loyal – and useful – supporters, no doubt."

Sirius digested this information silently. There wasn't anything he could say, really; he was well aware of the many ways in which people, even his own extended family, tried to take advantage of his heirship, or of the family coffers , so he just snorted contemptuously.

"It will be my pleasure to disappoint them, then," Sirius said coldly. Uncle Alphard looked rather pleased.

"There's something else I wanted to talk to you about," Uncle Alphard said. His voice sounded queer; hesitant, and a little subdued. Sirius looked up curiously.

"I'll be resuming my travels soon," Uncle Alphard said. "I'd like you to keep this." He produced a square package wrapped in plain paper, and handed it to Sirius. "Put it away in a safe place when you're at home, it's reactive to certain forms of dark magic. And if you're leaving home, take it with you."

Sirius examined the parcel curiously, but didn't open it; he could see several figures heading in their direction. It was fairly small, and a faint scent of something pleasant, which he couldn't recognise, rose up through the wrapping. He put the package in the mokeskin pouch he kept in the pocket of his robes. "What is it?"

"Something you might find useful," Uncle Alphard replied lightly. "Suffice to say it's from my travels."

"How long will you be gone this time?"

"Actually, there is a fair chance that I might not return."

"_WHAT?"_

"I'm ill," Uncle Alphard said shortly.

Sirius stared at his uncle. When he'd first seen the man, he'd been so overjoyed that he hadn't really looked at his uncle. On closer examination, he could detect faint dark circles under his eyes and a slight pallor to his skin that would not have been present in a healthy man. Alphard was in the same black dress robes that he had been wearing at their last meeting, but they hung slightly off his frame now.

"You're – you're not dying are you?" Sirius asked softly, after a moment.

Uncle Alphard chuckled dryly. "Eventually, we all have to, but I'll try to abstain from that pleasure just yet."

"If you're ill, why are you travelling? Shouldn't you be resting at home?"

"The dampness in the air here isn't conducive to convalescence. And I've been taking some treatment – South Asia has some remedies for this…sort of illness. They can cure it, or delay symptoms effectively for a great length of time."

"At least owl me then," Sirius said, a tad testily. "I don't want to suddenly hear from someone that my favourite uncle has dropped down dead."

"My research is still going on," Uncle Alphard said. "I might have to vanish from time to time. I'll still send you word when I can," he added hastily, seeing Sirius' face grow sour. He glanced beyond Sirius' shoulder and frowned. Sirius heard the faint sound of approaching footsteps.

Alphard put his hand on Sirius' shoulder and ducked his head, looking his nephew in the eye. "Things are coming to a head. We all have to make our choices. I've already made mine; your turn will be coming soon."

Sirius opened his mouth, but Uncle Alphard stopped him with a shake of his head.

"Sometimes, the grass seems greener on the other side of the fence, but that is just an illusion. The path maybe rough, but remember you've got conviction on your side." The hand on his shoulder squeezed slightly. "I have faith in you," Uncle Alphard said quietly. "I know you will choose well."

Sirius nodded, and then swung around when he heard a crunch of gravel. Father was standing there, gazing coldly at them.

"Bella wishes to speak with you, Sirius," he said. "Alphard." He inclined his head stiffly to Uncle Alphard, who nodded back equally stiffly. Father then started back towards the house without waiting for Sirius.

"Right – I'll…write to you then," Sirius said awkwardly.

"Goodbye, Sirius."

"Goodbye, Uncle Alphard."

Sirius hurried after Father, but turned midway and looked back.

Uncle Alphard was watching him sadly, but he gave a small smile and waved.

Sirius swallowed the lump in his throat as he smiled and waved back.

* * *

_That was a long chapter to make up for the delay, and I hope you liked it. Updating will be slow as I'm back at university, but I should be able to update about once a fortnight. _


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